


Find My Way Home

by mrs_d



Category: due South
Genre: Gen, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8186873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: “I don’t have any food,” the small human told Runt. Then she sniffed some more. “But if you just want some company, I guess that’s okay. I could use a friend today, too.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Complementary piece of writing to "The Water's Edge and the Harbour Town" by ButterflyGhost and  
> Bluehaven4220.

Runt was cold. Runt was hungry, lonely, tired. And cold.

Mother pushed Runt aside, even though she let Brother and Sister stay close. Brother played too rough, Sister chased Runt’s tail and bit, too hard, until Runt yelped, but they didn’t let go, and Mother only glanced lazily in his direction at the sound. It was made clear, then, that Runt was on his own.

So, as soon as he could, he left. Brother and Sister were huddled up to Mother on that cold morning; they didn’t even stir when Runt burrowed his way out of the den they’d made under an abandoned barn. His breath misted in front of him, his stomach growled.

He set out, following a trail of scent that led to the human settlement, to a woman shovelling the heavy spring snow. Runt could smell the beginnings of grass each time she moved, but more compelling was the aroma of meat and milk that came from behind her. He inched closer.

“What do you want, you mangy stray?” she demanded. “Ain’t nothing here for you, shoo!”

The woman came nearer and waved the snow shovel in his direction, but Runt didn’t move. He wanted the meat. He sat and stared.

But when the shovel collided with the snow right in front of Runt’s paws, he jumped up and ran. Behind him, the woman muttered about dirty animals and their damn diseases. Runt didn’t think he had a disease — it didn’t feel like there was anything wrong with him — though maybe that would explain the way Mother wanted nothing to do with him.

He wandered the streets, tracking a few different scents to more humans who told him to get lost. Eventually, he found a box against a fence that smelled interesting — dead rodents — but right after he’d eaten, he threw the food back up. He was hungry and desperate enough to keep eating, but a man emerged from a building nearby and kicked snow at him, startling him away again.

Runt was still hungry, and he was starting to get colder. The sun — never strong this time of year — was already beginning to dip behind the mountains to the west. He had made a mistake, leaving Mother and Brother and Sister. He should have stayed. He wondered if he could reach the den before dark, if Mother would even let him in.

But then a curious sound caught his ear. A sniff, a small voice. He cocked his head, determined where the sound was coming from, headed in its direction. And found—

A human. Smaller than the others, alone. No shovels or threatening boots.

Runt fell into step behind her, stepping slowly and lightly through the snow, trying to keep it from crunching and giving his position away, in case this human wanted to attack him as well. But he couldn’t keep silent forever, not even from human ears, and after a few paces, the human glanced over her shoulder, her small mouth round with surprise.

“I don’t have any food,” she told him. Then she sniffed some more. “But if you just want some company, I guess that’s okay. I could use a friend today, too.”

Runt rushed forward and licked her mitten, and when she turned away to keep walking, he followed right at her heels.

***

“Diefenbaker,” the big human had said, with certainty like the word meant something to humans.

Runt wasn’t certain. He didn’t feel any different for having a new name, except that his belly was full and the little human kept him closer than Brother or Sister ever would.

“At least let me give him a bath first, Abigail,” big human said. He grimaced a little when the small human — Abigail — held Runt even closer. “He might have fleas.”

“I don’t care,” said Abigail.

“Well, I do,” said the big human, and even though he didn’t flash his teeth the way Mother would, Runt recognized the authority there. Clearly, the big human was Alpha.

Abigail moved away reluctantly. “Can I help, Dad?”

“Of course,” Alpha nodded, and they introduced Runt to the bath. He didn’t much like it.

***

Runt made his own den under Abigail’s sleeping place, hoarding the blankets that Alpha had laid down, and he slept, warm and safe in the knowledge that Abigail was close enough that he could protect her if he needed to, that Alpha would protect them both.

Because they were Pack now, family. Home.


End file.
